


Spark

by bccalling



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 1x07, Canon Compliant, Extended Scene, M/M, POV Ian Gallagher, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25207273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bccalling/pseuds/bccalling
Summary: Ian falls hard and he falls fast when Mickey Milkovich lets down his guard.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 5
Kudos: 100





	Spark

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty sure this came from that tumblr post floating around about Mickey's t-shirt post-1x07 tryst, and the thoughts it inspired in me.

* * *

Ian wants to kiss him. Doesn't think Mickey will let him.

But Mickey looks fucking sinful, his mouth hanging open and spilling soft grunts and the occasional surprised gasp when Ian presses into him just right. Sweat drips down the hard planes of Mickey's chest, pooling in the dip of his throat. A deep flush covers his pale skin—and somehow it feels like more of a vulnerability than the very fact that Mickey's laid bare before him—a deep acceptance that connotes Mickey's pleasure and absolute surrender to Ian.

When Mickey's face twists into a pleasured grimace, his hand finding its way into the locks of Ian's hair, Ian can't help but collapse down over him with a pained gasp. It's all too good, and Ian knows he should keep his distance. Feels deep down that there are boundaries here that Mickey will not cross, and thinks maybe that blanketing Mickey's body with his own is one of them. But instead of pushing him away, Mickey buries his face against Ian's neck, mouth still open and wet against Ian's skin, moving only with the steady shock of Ian's hips, but still a constant wet pressure that creates a warm flutter in Ian's heart. He tucks his own face closer to Mickey's ear then, lips just ghosting over the skin as his breath tickles over the hair at Mickey's neck. 

For his part, Mickey clings to Ian, fingers still grasping tight at Ian's hair, and free hand moving to grip at Ian's back and shoulders, nails scraping harsh against Ian's skin. It's quiet, but Ian gasps at the feeling, hips faltering just a little at Mickey's touch. Ian's fingers find their way down to Mickey's thigh then, gently tickling down until he finds the crook of Mickey's knee and tugs until Mickey hikes his leg a little higher and lets his heel settle at the dip of Ian's lower back.

And Ian can't fucking believe Mickey's so malleable in his arms. Mickey Milkovich—certified Southside badass and general neighborhood menace—is letting Ian spread him open and press inside his body in the most intimate of ways. 

And Ian feels like he's on fire from the way Mickey meets him move for move, lifting his hips and drawing Ian in with the heel pressed tight into Ian's back. Body alight at the way Mickey's fingers sink into his skin while Mickey keeps his face hidden in the crook of Ian's neck, eyelashes fluttering there as Mickey's eyes alternate between squeezing tight and then pressing wide whenever Ian shifts just right.

After long moments savoring the feel of Mickey's body pressed to his, Ian knows he won't last with the intoxicating cloud of _Mickey_ surrounding him. When Mickey whines out a quiet _fuck_ on a hitched breath, Ian can't hold out any longer. Lifts away just far enough to slide a hand between them to stroke Mickey slow, a distinctive contrast to the quickening pace of his hips that leaves Mickey a squirming mess against him.

Just before Mickey lets go, every muscle in his body tightens against Ian, legs pressing Ian closer and fingers squeezing against his skin, as Mickey's body clenches around Ian where they're joined, bringing Ian tumbling over the edge with him. Ian can't help but whisper Mickey's name as he falters in his movements and lets his lips graze gentle over Mickey's ear.

At the feel of Ian's mouth ghosting over his skin, Mickey gasps _Gallagher_ on a broken breath as he spills between them, Ian's gentle fingers working him through it. 

And Ian wishes, from somewhere deep down that he doesn't understand, that Mickey had murmured out his actual name. Wants to hear _Ian_ on Mickey's lips in bliss instead of anger. Wants to hold him and kiss him and have him in more than just this. And Ian doesn't even know, really, that there is a _this_. Doesn't know if Mickey will let them have this again.

But as he comes down from the high of it all, breath steadying as he draws back to take in Mickey's soft features—eyes closed and lips twitching into an almost-smile—Ian thinks maybe they will.

But after—after long moments of breathing the same air and untangling gentle fingers and limbs; after they’ve settled beside one another in comfortable companionship; _after an unfortunate interruption that leaves them both shaken_ —Mickey pushes Ian away. Shoves harshly at his skin until Ian slumps dejectedly out of the bed, feeling suddenly exposed and dirty at Mickey's silent rejection as he searches out his discarded clothing. 

For his part, Mickey is swift in following Ian to his feet and even quicker in shrugging on his clothes. 

Ian's slow in his movements, even as he feels Mickey's urgency, afraid to let it end too soon. And Mickey doesn't push, doesn't say a word, actually, and that cuts deep. He can feel Mickey's eyes on him, and then can hear rustling behind him as Mickey rummages for something; Ian busying himself with the zipper on his jeans, trying not to get in his own head at the insecurities that tumble in his gut at Mickey's sudden rejection. It's stupid, Ian knows, to think this was more.

But then he catches movement from the corner of his eye and hears a gentle thud hitting the sheets. When he turns, curious, the gun is lying unattended, an obvious invitation for Ian take the fucking thing back, and Ian's heart squeezes a little in his chest. After a moment of contemplation, Ian turns surprised eyes to Mickey, who looks uncharacteristically timid as he meets Ian's eyes for only a moment before dropping them and rubbing at his lip in what Ian takes for a nervous gesture. It propels Ian forward, though, his feet carrying him into Mickey's space before he can even think. 

But Mickey's ready for him. Turns on a dime, all hints of nervous energy melting away as that intimidating swagger reclaims its rightful place on Mickey's shoulders, a threat Ian wishes were empty dripping from his lips: _kiss me and I'll cut your fucking tongue out_.

Ian finds himself shrugging, accepting the indifference even as part of him continues to hope. A whisper at the very back of his mind that burrows its way into Ian's heart to lie unspoken. 

_Mickey had given the gun back_. 

A peace offering. A moment of vulnerability even deeper, maybe, than when he'd allowed Ian into his bed and into his body. 

Because Mickey Milkovich didn't back down from a challenge. But maybe—Ian thinks, grasping at a fleeting thought as it flits through his mind—maybe he'd issued one in that moment.

Ian plans to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a persistent headcanon that their first time was face-to-face. I don't know why. Something about the idea that Mickey let himself be a little more vulnerable with Ian that first time because he was so caught off guard and then built his walls up higher out of fear just really appeals to me.


End file.
